


girl, come make me feel missed

by RennieOnIceCream (Hitsugi_Zirkus)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Fantasizing, Genderswap, Lesbian Viktuuri, Masturbate the Angst Feels Away, Masturbation, POV Alternating, Sexswap, Vaginal Fingering, pillow humping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 07:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14890467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitsugi_Zirkus/pseuds/RennieOnIceCream
Summary: For the past month, the same faraway memory played through Viktoria's head as she showered the sweat from her body, as she melted onto her plush mattress, the scent of her soap oddly reminiscent of the sweetnessshehad on that night.~Yuuri spent only a second more trying to chastise herself before she gave into the tantalizing after-images of her dream, of Viktoria dancing in her arms, the sparkling pink lavender of her dress falling from her pale shoulders, sliding down from her breasts…~Weeks after the fateful banquet, Yuuri and Viktoria spend one lonely night thinking about each other.





	girl, come make me feel missed

**Author's Note:**

> A few weeks ago, I got to see Hayley Kiyoko in concert so of course I had been binge-listening to her CD non-stop. The song ["Wanna Be Missed"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LU-OAuJq3nA) immediately hit me as a pERFECT post-banquet Viktuuri song so I wrote this and made them lesbians because Lesbian Jesus Hayley Kiyoko. Anyway, give the song a listen, and I hope you enjoy the fic!
> 
> This is the first time that I've written an alternating POV in this kind of way, so I'm sorry if it gets confusing, but I really wanted to experiment around with it!

At night, when she could finally be alone after a long practice at the rink, Viktoria’s mind wandered. She was never good with being alone with her head; unless she constantly kept herself occupied, her thoughts would meander to pointless places. It used to be thoughts of isolation, of standing too high, out of reach, unable to breathe. Now that emptiness was back with a new edge -- because for the past month, the same faraway memory played through her head as she showered the sweat from her body, as she melted onto her plush mattress, the scent of her soap oddly reminiscent of the sweetness _she_ had on _that night._

It shouldn’t be _pointless_ for Viktoria Nikiforova to think of a woman, to yearn for one. With her status as a world champion athlete, with her beauty and charisma, she could surely have whoever she desired; all she would have to do was beckon them over.

And yet she’d been staring despondently at her phone for weeks, full of notifications from social media, texts and calls from Yakov and her rink mates, emails from her sponsors… And yet nothing from _her_.

 _Viktoria had been watching her through the night -- the slump of her shoulders, the dark sienna eyes that begged to be anywhere else but here. She watched one, two, six,_ ten _flutes of golden champagne emptied down between perfect pink lips, an unabashed tongue chasing the taste when it dripped down her chin, her movements sloppier with every drop of alcohol._

_At some point, she’d released her hair from the tight bun it’d been in for all the performances and the banquet, and Viktoria’s heart fluttered at the sight of silken ebony tumbling down her back, thick and wavy at the bottom near the curve of her waist._

_Viktoria had a sudden thought of that long, beautiful hair fanned out on her pillows, curling against her neck…_

A heated breath escaped Viktoria’s lips. After her shower, she’d dressed in nothing but a peach-colored satin robe, the material now felt tantalizingly smooth against her skin. She imagined that this must be what it was like to have _her_ body pressed and rubbing against Viktoria’s, covering her.

With the slow drag of her hands, Viktoria opened up her robe, letting her eyes flutter closed.

It was going to be one of those nights pointlessly wishing to be missed.

* * *

It was the middle of the night, and Katsuki Yuuri couldn’t sleep. That was unsurprising. Ever since her epic failure at the Grand Prix Final and Nationals, Yuuri had finally ran out of Detroit the first chance she got, retreating to her Japanese university.

She just -- needed time. She needed to think, to _not_ think.

She had no idea where her life was going now. All Yuuri wanted was to _forget_ the humiliation and anxiety-filled dreams that replayed her failures in twisted fashions.

And yet...it wasn’t a _bad_ dream that had woken her up this time.

A hot breath left her, a shudder rippling down her body and a familiar throbbing between her legs. With a blush, Yuuri reached down and felt herself under her panties. Her fingertips were immediately soaked.

 _Oh my god._ Yuuri screwed her eyes shut, flashes of her dream playing in the darkness: piercing blue eyes, short silver hair, the sensual bow of pale lips shaping out Yuuri’s name through a sultry smile… Yuuri groaned, her whole body growing hot in a mix of shame and arousal.

She shouldn’t _fantasize_ about Viktoria Nikiforova. She had no right. She _lost_ the right when she fumbled on the same ice as her and then ended up being a forgotten face to her own idol. Even when Yuuri skated _right in front of her_ , Viktoria hadn’t seen her.

It was just as well. She didn’t want that humiliation to be her mark in Viktoria’s memory.

\--And it didn’t stop her from imagining soft, soothing kisses being pressed into her hair and along her shoulders. It didn’t prevent the familiar pleasant heat between her legs where she imagined soft hands stroking her, dipping inside her… Yuuri spent only a second more trying to chastise herself before she gave into the tantalizing after-images of her dream, of Viktoria dancing in her arms, the sparkling pink lavender of her dress falling from her pale shoulders, sliding down from her breasts…

Yuuri shoved off her pants and underwear before spreading her legs and reaching down, silently thanking the fact that she lived in an apartment by herself.

* * *

It was so easy to lull her mind back to that glowing night, to the elated flush across her face because of Katsuki Yuuri’s own contagious smile and laugh. It was easy for Viktoria to slide her hands up and down her skin and remember that this was where _Yuuri’s_ hands had been on her when they danced in a swooping, twirling blur.

Viktoria had never felt anything like that moment, had never been more captivated than when she saw Yuuri wriggle out of her dress, her heels and pantyhose to _dance_ and set the boring banquet on fire. The sheer blue sash tied around her waist had ended up around her head, trailing down with her hair, and the straps of her bra constantly fell down her shoulders, _tempting_ Viktoria.

Yuuri was so _soft_ , soft in ways many wouldn’t allow for a female figure skater. But she and no one else was the one to stun the crowd with her sensuality, her playfulness and smile. Even when utterly intoxicated, her movements had a fluid grace to them. Her butt jiggled in her cotton panties, and there was a pudge to her stomach that Viktoria wanted to kiss again and _again_ , leading a trail up to the gorgeous swell of her chest. Viktoria squeezed her own breast, imagining it to be Yuuri’s larger one heavily filling her palm.

With a shaky breath, Viktoria’s other hand moved down her body to cup herself between her legs. Her cunt fluttered pleasantly at the heated contact and Viktoria started to rub against her swelling folds. Groaning, her hips began to rock slightly, her fingertips teasing around the rim of her hole growing slicker by the minute.

Viktoria’s head fell back on her pillow, the curves and softness of Yuuri’s body teasing her fantasies. Recalling her legs around that pole, she wished desperately to have her head bracketed between those strong, pliant thighs.

Her breath hitched, picturing nudging the crotch of Yuuri’s cute panties aside, revealing her cunt, flushed and wet and _beautiful, oh so beautiful_ . God, how she wanted to bury her face there, drown it in kisses and slip her tongue inside -- she bet that Yuuri tasted _exquisite_.

“Ahh, _fuck_ ,” she cursed, dipping her fingers inside, amazed at how damp she was already. There was no way she was going to be able to draw this out, not when her pussy was squeezing around her fingers, when fluids were dripping down to her sheets. Viktoria gave several soft “ _Oh_ ”s, turning her head to one of the pillows beside her.

She grabbed it, sitting up. She was desperate, she needed more stimulation, more--

 

 

\--friction, Yuuri needed more _friction_. She rolled her hips against her ring and middle finger buried deep inside her, stroking her soft, slick walls. Fingertips coated in her juices, Yuuri moved them up to her swelling clit, rubbing against it in irregular circles.

“ _Yeees_ ,” she sighed. Her cheeks grew hot, a blush she knew that was spreading to the tips of her ears. Snapshots of her dream returned to her, a strange mixture of vivid ballroom dancing in a golden-lit room and hazy sex, both of them with Viktoria in her arms. In the latter, Viktoria laughed quietly against her ear, rutting her hips down against Yuuri’s, the fluid undulation of her smooth hips hypnotizing her.

Yuuri had never seen Viktoria naked before, and really of _course_ she hadn’t, but in her dreams, her nipples were a beautiful rose-pink and overly sensitive to Yuuri’s kisses and fondling. The flesh of her strong abdomen was pearlescent, smooth, her lower hair neatly trimmed and perfectly framing her lovely, flushed--

Though the fantasy, Yuuri started rubbing more aggressively at her clit, and she could already feel herself getting swept up by the pleasure washing over her. She felt much too empty, her cunt clenching disappointingly around nothing. In a daze, Yuuri moved to reach under her bed. Her fingertips hit the box where she kept her toys and she blindly rummaged around.

Finally, the weight of her ridged silicone dildo filled her palm. With her other hand, she continued to stroke herself as she one-handedly popped open her lube and spread it from the bulbous head of the dildo and down. The suctioned base could be used in a strap-on, and Yuuri shuddered to imagine Viktoria slipping it on and getting ready to enter her.

Falling back on the mattress, nudged the dildo’s head against her sopping-wet hole. In one push, Yuuri filled herself, whimpering loudly at the sweet spread of her pussy around the toy. It wasn’t too large, but big enough to pleasantly stretch her hole.

“Viktoria… _Viktoria…_ ”

Maybe if things had gone differently at the GPF, Yuuri wouldn’t have to be doing this alone. If only she’d left some impression on Viktoria; that was the first time she’d gotten so close to her -- and it would probably be the last.

 _I want to see her. Want to see you again… Viktoria, more--!_ Yuuri thrust the dildo in and out of her, moaning as it stroked against all her sensitive spots. Lewd squelching sounds filled in her room, her bed creaking slightly as she started to move her hips along--

 

 

\--the folded pillow she straddled between her thighs, Viktoria’s pussy dragging against the pillow’s soft casing. Her hands danced down, caressing her thighs and hips, up to her breasts once more.

Viktoria moaned, tipping her head back. “Yuuri,” she pleaded. “Yuuri, _Yuuri…_ ”

Thinking of Yuuri below her, her hips between Viktoria’s thighs… Her cunt quivered, and Viktoria gave an almost frustrated groan. Her body ached to be held, to have warmth and skin contact, those same dark sienna eyes looking up at Viktoria like she was the key to happiness.

The ache might’ve been more painful had she not picked up her pace, gyrating her hips in circles, gasping at the new friction. A damp spot was growing on the dawn-grey pillowcase, but Viktoria didn’t care about the mess, instead reaching down to stroke her clit. Pleasure burst sweetly, thrumming under her skin.

With a sharp inhale--

 

 

\--her breath caught in her throat. Yuuri gasped for air, forgetting to breathe when her dildo reached inside her _just right_ . She sucked and bit at her bottom lip, pretending it was Viktoria’s soft, sweet mouth drowning her in heated kisses. Yuuri’s tongue pushed against the back of her teeth, desperate to return a kiss that was never even given to her. The blankets over her body were warm, but they were a poor substitute for the solid heat of a partner’s body -- of _Viktoria’s_ body.

Yuuri pushed up her tank top over her breasts, her hands sliding over her pudgy stomach in the process.

_“You’re so soft here, Yuuri. You make me want to kiss it~”_

The words, spoken in a fond lilt, seemed too vivid for a dream, but Yuuri chased after it nonetheless, thinking of Viktoria pressing her lips over her stomach, squeezing her sides. She’d kiss up to her ample breasts, fondling them and pinching her dark honey nipples.

“ _Viktoria_ ,” she gasped. Then, daring to remember her nickname, she whispered heatedly, “ _Vika_.” Playing with one of her breasts, Yuuri thrust faster, the heel of her palm hitting her clit each time. Toes curling, she felt the familiar--

 

 

 

\--desperate clench of her cunt as she reached dangerously close to orgasm. But Viktoria doubted she could stop even if she wanted to.

One hand braced on the bed, Viktoria was practically bouncing on top of her pillow, her hips erratically pushing against the fingers brushing over her clit and seeking friction over her pussy. Her fringe fell messy over her face as she tilted her head, mouth open in pleasure.

“God, yes, _there_ \-- there, Yuuri, yes, fuck, _baby…_ ”

Her head was filled with the rock of Yuuri’s own hips on the dancefloor, the controlled curl of her body around the pole (what she wouldn’t have given to _be that pole_ ), the sticky-sweet scent of champagne on her breath… Just one of many regrets that night was not being able to know that taste right from Yuuri’s lips. She remembered Yuuri’s hand accidentally reaching under her dress during their half-waltz-tango, squeezing the back of her bare thigh.

Well, even her well-toned thighs were starting to burn from her eager movements. Viktoria moved faster, pressing over her clit harder, chasing the climax building just below her belly.

“ _Baby, I’m gonna come,_ Yuuri, I-- _Fuck--_ ”

 

 

“--Vika, please… Ohh, god, _god--_ ” The creak of the bed was almost enough to cover up Yuuri’s quiet, breathless moans as her hips moved desperately to meet the thrust of the dildo. It was getting more wet, more lewd, more _hot_.

She was almost there, blissfully teetering at the edge before finally--

 

 

\--a heavy shudder rippled through Viktoria’s body and she cried out. Her hips kept--

 

 

\--moving through the wave of orgasm, Yuuri’s pussy pulsing and juices overflowing to the sheets.  “ _Viktoria_ \--!”

 

 

“ _Yuuri-i-i~!_ ”

 

 

With a whimper, Yuuri finally uncoiled her muscles and--

 

 

\--collapsed back onto the bed. Viktoria weakly shoved the soiled pillow away, laying still until her breathing could return to normal. Tremors still pulsed around her thighs and between them. Viktoria closed her eyes.

The afterglow didn’t last long. Not when she remembered the reason why she’d been so stirred up in the first place. Her bed seemed too big and cold, her body too naked. Slowly, she opened her eyes to take a glance at her phone sitting on the nightstand, but the notification light didn’t glow. Her heart sank. She’d made sure to write her number down on Yuuri’s arm when her phone had been confiscated by her coach, and yet…

_Why won’t you pick up your phone?_

The past few weeks had been torture. She felt like couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe without having the chance to see Katsuki Yuuri one more time. Would she have to wait the long months until they had another competition together…?

Ignoring the stinging behind her eyes, Viktoria took a deep breath and weakly buried herself under her blankets.

_Do you really not miss me like I miss you?_

* * *

Yuuri slipped the dildo now shining with her creamy fluids out of her, tossing it down to the floor with a soft _thud_. Taking gulps of air, she let herself melt back onto her mattress, waiting for her heartbeat to settle. She felt sweaty; she’d have to shower once it was actually daylight. When she checked the time on her phone, it looked like she wouldn’t have to wait long until the sunrise anyway.

So she wasted another night thinking of Viktoria Nikiforova. Why the hell did Yuuri torture herself like this? Why did her head tease her with all these made-up scenarios of Viktoria smiling at her, embracing her -- _loving_ her?

This had to be the end of her career. That was all Yuuri could think. Ever since the GPF, Yuuri stumbled in competitions worse than ever. She couldn’t walk, couldn’t talk to anyone, couldn’t go on with figure skating.

The worst thing was that Yuuri didn’t even fully believe that. Because even if Viktoria was miles, light-years, out of her reach, Yuuri couldn’t stop playing images of her.

 _I wonder if she’s alone like this, laying on her bed in the dark._ She wondered if there was anyone Viktoria touched herself to -- or if someone was doing the touching for her. Yuuri closed her eyes, trying to ignore the weight in her heart.

_Every night, I want to see you just one more time._


End file.
